


Soon

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 15:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5933077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus muses about the past and the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soon

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

He didn't move. Hadn't for hours now. He didn't even blink more than he had to. He just kneeled there on the dais and stared.

He'd returned downstairs with the Healers and in the bustle of activity around him, nobody had noticed that he hadn't left with them as they'd taken the wounded to St.Mungo's.

He couldn't tell how long he had sat here. Couldn't bring himself to care. He had ascertained that none of the children were badly hurt. Beyond that, nothing mattered. Nothing but the shapeless shadows he could see moving behind that veil, the voices whispering to him.

Remus didn't move a muscle when he heard the door behind him open and close. He didn't take his eyes off the black veil. He didn't even blink.

"Remus?"

Nothing indicated that he'd even heard Dumbledore calling his name.

"Remus, I know this must be difficult for you..."

"Do you, now... " Remus' voice sounded harsh and cold to his own ears. Brittle.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "You have every right to be angry with me."

Remus didn't reply. Angry. As if he had it left in him to care that much.

He heard Dumbledore's robes rustle as the old wizard settled down on one of the stone steps to his right. Remus kept his eyes fixed on the veil. Shapes moved behind it. Echoes of voices. Calling him.

"I know why you're down here. But you know as well as I do that you can't do that yet."

With momentous effort, Remus tore his eyes away from the veil and rested them on Dumbledore. "Can't do what?"

Dumbledore met and held his eyes. "Don't insult my intelligence, Remus."

Remus sighed. He was so tired. "What do you want, Albus?"

"For you to come outside with me."

Remus shrugged, breaking his complete stillness.

"Remus, I need you to talk to Harry. He needs some answers only you can give him." Remus was surprised to note that the normally imperturbable Headmaster seemed almost anxious.

He snorted. "Are you telling me there are questions Albus Dumbledore can't answer?"

Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "You of all people should know better than to ask. Did I ever have any answers for you?"

Remus shook his head sadly. "No," he whispered. "You didn't. And you never pretended to, either. For that I `ve been always grateful."

For a moment silence settled between them, a silence Remus used to remind himself that however much he might like to blame Dumbledore for Sirius's... for what had happened, he hadn't the energy to sustain any lasting anger against him. He owed Dumbledore too much and had been through too much with him. And the thing he'd always appreciated most about the Headmaster was that the man had never claimed to be anything more or less than human, nor had he denied Remus the same privilege.

He sighed deeply. "What am I supposed to tell Harry? I don't even know what to tell myself."

"Harry needs help to deal with what's happened, Remus. He needs to talk to someone who loved Sirius every bit as much as he did. If not more. And I think you need that too."

Remus swallowed. He'd promised Sirius he'd take care of Harry if anything happened to him. But pain, anger and grief had ravaged him and left him raw, numb and exhausted. Even if he wanted to, he didn't have the strength to get off this floor, let alone comfort anyone. His eyes were drawn back to the veil, the gauzy black material moving without any outward stimulus. He could still hear the voices, could feel more than see figures moving behind it, and he knew without a doubt whose face one of these figures bore.

"Why do they keep this thing here anyway? They don't even know what it is. All they know is that anyone who reaches even their little finger through the veil dies. And that anyone who's ever lost a loved one hears them moving behind that veil."

Dumbledore shrugged. "To study it. The Department of Mysteries has always been intrigued by the inexplicable."

He kept on talking, but Remus didn't listen anymore. He concentrated on the murmurs of voices, straining to hear a familiar tone.

He started when a hand touched his shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, Remus, you know where to find me."

Remus nodded and listened as Dumbledore slowly walked away, then returned his attention to the veil. For a long time, he sank back into his frozen, motionless state. "You were always such a show-off, even in our first year at school. Always had to do everything in a flashy way. Couldn't even leave me a body to bury." His voice sounded loud and bitter in the quiet of the room.

He tried to imagine his conversation with Harry.

`Harry, I know how you feel. I know your pain. I share it.'

`How can you understand my pain?'

`Because I loved him. Because he loved me. Because he was all I still had, all I lived and waited for. The only person who loved me. The only one I loved."

He closed his eyes. He wasn't even ready to imagine this conversation, much less have it. And what if Harry wanted to talk about Sirius? About what he'd been like at school? What if he asked questions about what he'd seen in Snape's memories? What would Remus say then?

`Your dad was a conceited prick and Sirius wasn't an inch better, but I loved them both. They accepted me unquestioningly, faults and all, werewolf or not, how could I do anything less for them?'

He remembered the day Harry had seen in the Pensieve. He remembered his burning ears and heavy conscience as he practically ignored James and Sirius bullying Snape before his eyes. It had taken Lily to stop James.

`What you must understand, Harry, is that both your dad and Sirius were still children back then. Stupid, irresponsible, delightful, beautiful, complicated children.'

Of course he could have stopped James and Sirius from bullying Snape, but the truth was he'd loved Sirius already and so he'd closed his eyes until he could no longer ignore.

`That incident with Snape, Harry, and the Whomping Willow. That's what it took for all of us to wake up. To realise that it wasn't a game. That it wasn't funny. I didn't talk to Sirius for the rest of the term. I even moved out of our dormitory. We only reconciled when he came to visit to tell me that he'd ran away from home that summer.'

He remembered that evening as one of the defining moments of his life. The bell ringing. Him opening the door and almost shutting it again when he saw Sirius standing there in the rain, soaked to the skin, shivering, pale, desperate and so beautiful it took Remus' breath away. It had been the moment he'd realised that no matter what he did, he'd always be in love with Sirius Black. He'd beckoned Sirius to come in. They'd sat in the kitchen over a cup of tea and Sirius had told him about the fight with his parents. How pleased his parents had been that his association with `that freak'- meaning Remus- was over. How he'd exploded and told his parents exactly what he thought of them. How he'd realised then that he'd been no better than them by looking down at Snape for just being the way he was. If Remus could ever forgive him for being such a sodding, stupid prick.

And Remus had forgiven him. Had taken the wet, shivering boy into his arms and had repaid honesty with honesty. He'd told Sirius that night. He'd said the words. Had talked about how betrayed he'd felt by the one person he'd always trusted implicitly. By the one person he truly loved. He remembered Sirius' shocked awe and the infectious delight that had spread over the irresistibly handsome features. He remembered their first, sloppy, wet, kiss that night, remembered Sirius' whispering `I love you'.

`From that day on, Harry, we were pretty much inseparable. We worked together for the Order. We were an excellent team at first.'

He remembered the first months after leaving Hogwarts, the sense of adventure, of hope. They'd all wanted to make a difference. He'd been so young, and truly happy for the first time in his life. He'd had everything. Friends. A job he loved. And Sirius. Sirius who had loved him, had shared everything with him, every joy and every burden. They'd been together constantly, on assignments and at home, in work and in life. But then...

`But then darkness seemed to catch up with us again, Harry. We started to distrust each other. So many of us were killed or twisted beyond recognition. It shook us to the core. Drove the last bit of innocence out of us all. It was clear there was a traitor among us and the more of us were killed, the more paranoid the rest of us became. Sirius and I were split up because the Order was too thinly spread already. We were so busy that we rarely saw each other.'

It had seldom happened that they were home at the same time. When they had been, they'd clung to each other, desperate to banish death and destruction for a while, making frantic love and whispering hoarse declarations of devotion. But even between them, absence had bred distrust. Sirius had neglected to tell Remus that he had switched Secret Keeper with Peter. Remus had found out later that it had been more for Remus' protection than out of distrust. Sirius had been willing to risk his own life, but not Remus'.

`And then it all came crashing down, Harry. That night. They died and Sirius was arrested.'

He lifted his eyes from the floor to the black veil again and addressed it in a numb whisper, "I almost killed myself that night, did I tell you that? And several times more during the twelve years you were in Azkaban. But I couldn't do it, you see... couldn't go through with it as long as Harry was there. I knew he would someday need me. That's why I came to Hogwarts two years ago. And when I saw you at the Shack, it was like that night in the rain a million years ago. I realised that no matter what you did or how you looked, I would always love you."

And then, when he'd realised that Sirius was innocent, he'd felt a relief so great it was beyond words. Guilt had never completely left him since the night James and Lily died, but it had lifted of him considerably when he was absolved for not being able to hate Sirius.

`You see, Harry, I believed he was guilty and still a part of me continued to love him. And a part of me hated him with the heat of a Phoenix' death. Love, hate, guilt, anger, it burned me out. I was as much of a shell as Sirius was. But when he came to me last summer, I thought we could maybe make each other whole again.'

It had taken Remus by surprise when Sirius had asked him to stay at the Black family house with him. Separate bedrooms, in the beginning at least.

`We moved into the same room the night we talked to you about the Pensieve. Before, he was confusing. Restless. Clinging to me and pushing me away all at once. The distance between us was painful for me, but that night I understood. He was still blaming himself for James' death. He was practically obsessed, saying you were his one link to James, the one person who'd understand. That was the moment I started screaming. I was there too, you know. He was my friend too. I grieved for him just as much as you did. He listened to me, shocked with my outburst. Then suddenly, Sirius the caretaker was back, Sirius the protector. He shares that tendency with you, Harry. His saviour complex.'

Remus remembered that ever since their first meeting, Sirius had always protected Remus, had taken care of him after full moon, had felt responsible for Remus, as if Remus was the one person on whom he would atone for all the bad and stupid things he'd done. And at the same time Sirius had needed Remus as his anchor, his conscience. That night, in the almost palpable presence of their shared past, Sirius had finally started to let Remus in, let Remus take care of him, had taken care of Remus in return. Remus had moved into his bedroom that night, and for the first time in twelve years, they had both slept a whole night through.

`But I had to leave again two days later, Harry. I wasn't there enough, couldn't be because of my job for the Order.'

In retrospect, of course he should have seen the danger of keeping Sirius locked up in that house, a place too much like Azkaban with its dark past and shrieking voices. He had seen it, in fact, just hadn't known how to deal with it except to be there whenever he could. He hadn't understood that Azkaban had not exorcised Sirius' recklessness, on the contrary it had made all his good and bad traits more pronounced. His passion and his anger. His love and his hate. His recklessness and boundless loyalty.

`So of course despite the danger to him not only from the Death Eaters but also from the Ministry, he had to come and rescue you.'

And Remus had followed. He'd followed Sirius everywhere, his whole life. Into Gryffindor, into his bedroom, into the Order, even into exile, even if Remus' exile was a voluntary one.

And now...

He looked at the veil. What had Dumbledore said? `I know why you're down here. But you know as well as I do that you can't do that yet.'

Of course he knew. Sirius had made sure that this time, Remus would not follow him. Remus knew that in Sirius' will, he would be appointed Harry's guardian. Sirius had made him promise that he'd look after his godson. And Remus would keep that promise or die trying. He owed that not only to Sirius but to James. And himself.

He stood up, slowly stretching his cramped legs, ignoring the tingling as blood returned to them.

Slowly, making sure his still numb legs would carry him, he took the few steps towards the veil. He could hear the voices calling him, beckoning him to follow.

He reached out, his palm almost brushing the veil, almost a caress. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Soon."

Then he turned and left without looking back.

End


End file.
